


And still is, and will be

by torredegracia



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Autism, Internal Monologue, Lots of Thinking, Neurodiversity, Sensory Overload, Short Story, meltdowns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:33:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24085171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torredegracia/pseuds/torredegracia
Summary: "I don’t know if it’s the mind that forgets while the body remembers.Or if it was the other way around.Doesn’t matter, right now at least.I had to do something and I searched for an extreme.Little things just wouldn’t cut it."This is a short story loosely based on some personal experiences. I haven't written anything for myself in a while and have been in a bit of a writer's block so this is my attempt to get out of that.
Kudos: 1





	And still is, and will be

I can feel my heart beating out of my chest

But when someone checks my pulse they say that there are no signs of abnormal heartbeat.

I can feel physical sensations that when looked at by a doctor or a nurse are not detectable

So maybe they’re not really there

Or they are just caged within my neurotype

My nervous system

All my nerves

_It’s always my nerves_

I’ve felt things that are bigger than me before  
Bigger and larger and more potent than anything in life,  
anything that could possibly be held within the spectrum of the physical.

The visible plane.

_But I can feel it, oh god can I feel it._

When I’m out for walks late at night in the rain,  
when I drive myself to the ocean 30 minutes away because it’s late at night and I can feel this overwhelming urge again

To quench a flame dancing along my skin and up through the back of my spine, this fire that can’t be put out.

I grab a towel and a change of clothes because it’s September but the ocean is already getting cold. And I drive to a remote little beach in the dark.

I turn off all the lights and now I am truly alone and in the dark

Something that has always scared me, but distracts from these bigger feelings

_At least I thought it would._

Bringing the towel, I leave my shoes

I hear the roar and the screeching of the waves and wind

I stumble through seaweed, landing on sand. Ditching the towel, I run towards the water -

_And stop when I get there_

I cannot believe what I see  
what I feel  
how small and afraid.

_I don’t go in this time_

I grab the towel, heading back to the car.  
I drive to another smaller beach in the center of this sleeping town.  
I go slow and can feel the sand from my feet against the gas pedal.

_I haven’t bothered to put my shoes on_

And with this beach, it’s the same thing.  
Only a little less windy,  
with a bit less screeching,  
a little more light.

And it's a bit more of a public place.

But despite the warm amber lights which shine from the lighthouse, and the streetlamp and the windows scattered across this town. There are no people, just me.

_I’ve been here before_

In January, I had sat perched in the heavy rain on the ledge of a seawall here. My fingers turning red and numb, I was shivering but had sat through it. At least I felt alive in the truest sense.

_And I could just be_

Without the pain and fear and overthinking. The world just was. And still is.

_I needed to be reminded of that again._

My body didn’t want to, practically begged me not too, my nerves firing off at every end. But I wouldn’t let myself forget any longer.

_I don’t know if it’s the mind that forgets while the body remembers._   
_Or if it was the other way around._

Doesn’t matter, right now at least. I felt as though I was a small child, begging not to be subjected to such shocking sensations, the sensory overload, the internal humiliation. But my body was fighting between two choices, neither of which would be comfortable.

Continue to exist in and sit through this state of over/understimulation?  
(I never was very good at figuring out which was which while I was feeling them).  
Or subject myself to a bit of a shock,  
a recharge,  
reset the system?

Would I like it? _No._ But the urges were too strong.  
I had to do something and I searched for an extreme. Little things just wouldn’t cut it.

_I don’t want to die, I don’t want to harm myself. I repeated in my head._

The thought of thinking so scared me, and my body reacting in fear must mean that I’ve never had a desire too, right?

Consciously I know this is something I’ve never seriously considered.  
But I had seriously considered my strong desire to do anything to make these feelings go away when they arise, just to make them end. And the emotional, mental, physical pain that comes in 3’s. All together, a neurological nightmare.

Was there a chance that my tendency to jump to extremes could hurt myself, beyond the simple shock value I wanted to make these feelings go away? Possibly.

But I also knew that what I wanted to do, what I deemed to be extreme in this case was not life threatening.  
And would not be seen as much of anything by other people.  
This is the case for most things I experience in extremes, but won’t tell anyone.

_Not the whole truth anyway._

I slipped into cold water and forced myself to lay there in the sand as waves slowly crept up to me, going in and out and back again.  
Not knowing how big,  
how strong,  
how cold,  
how close,  
nor how far they would reach.  
And how long it would be until the next one came.

_I don’t like the feeling of temperature extremes, and that's an understatement_   
_My body also doesn’t tolerate the unknown very well._

Put those two together and there you have it.  
Maybe I could distract from the body, finding some calm and some peace in my mind by focusing on these sensations.  
It had to be possible.

Or they could just be overwhelming  
And only instill more fear into me.

_There was only one way to find out I guess._

I wondered if other people did this, or thought about doing it.  
Not lying in the waves specifically.  
But I knew people pinched themselves, or had someone step on their foot to try and distract from pain sometimes.

But this was a different kind of pain. Nothing had hurt me physically.

And nothing had hurt me mentally, nor emotionally.

_Yes, that’s what I keep telling myself._

My abnormal “sensitivities”, my visceral reactions to the world around me, they seem beyond my control. But they are mine and mine alone. My mind and body are responsible for them.

Because I know if I admitted to other people what it is that hurt me, mentally, emotionally. The things that cause me to be overwhelmed, to feel physical manifestations of every kind of pain. To come here and do something like this to get away from them.

_I couldn’t, I just couldn’t. I can’t let them see me this way._

I thought about this as I lay there, shivering, cold, staring up at the night sky. Wet sand beneath my back. Lips trembling and body jolting slightly every time a wave would reach and seep into me and my surroundings.

I wanted to cry.

Maybe I did? I don’t remember.

This was a part of my masking. And coming here alone, I’d have to do damage control myself.

_I don’t think I was built to be here._

Something’s missing in me, I told myself. I’d believed it for so long. I believed it because having no answer wouldn’t sit with me. I wanted to believe in something. But what else was there to believe in?

I couldn’t say,

There is a figurative “rose at my mouth” each time I try to fully express the extent of what I’m feeling, how I’m experiencing life and the world around me.

It frustrates me to no end, because words had been my strong suit. Yet for the one thing that really mattered, really meant something for me to express, I couldn’t.

_Language was one of my special interests,_

_And had been my mask._

But I guess even my mind and body knew. I’m better than people think I am at hiding, but I’m no good at hiding many things for very long. Not even with something I’m good at, something I use to pretend I can hide my inequities.  
And my inequity was,

_The things I felt deepest I could not express._

Important things I just couldn’t contain in language. Maybe my silence spoke loud enough for itself. But in that silence everything could be seen. I could be seen. And I knew that’s what scared me the most.

I sat up, out of the water

I could see my towel lying back a ways from where I’d thrown it on the beach. It promised warmth, and some sense of security.

I could feel the redness, and the damp cling of clothes to my skin.

My ears were ringing, but the sensation in my spine had stopped. It had been pushed back now. Just a dull tension that could be dealt with day by day, until things started to build up again.

My feet were sandy and raw, I made them push towards my towel at the other end of the beach. Wrapping it around my arms and upper body, I sat shivering in my car until I started to feel warm.

Then in the presence of just myself and the street light,  
I stripped.

Changing in the front seat wasn’t that big of a deal, it was late at night but there was no one around. And I ain’t driving home soaking wet. There was a spray of sand as I tossed my wet clothes on the floor of the car, but I could deal with that later. In some dry sweats and a t-shirt, I could feel the exhaustion catching up with me.

You could say it’s from a fresh air attack, or subjecting my body to extreme temperatures at will.

Either way, it didn’t matter. And I didn’t want to worry anyone with where I was anymore than I probably had.

Maybe things would be alright

_Maybe I'd find myself here again._

All roads seemed to lead back to this place for me anyway.

_I don’t like feelings of uncertainty._

Who knows how I’d be feeling the next time I was here, I’d just have to find out.

I drove the twisting, winding roads home, sand still splayed and saltwater drying in my hair. And I knew I’d found, even if only a temporary feeling. That one I’d been seeking and would probably seek again.

Even through all the torturous sensations my mind and body were subjected to, even for just a moment I felt that the world just was.

_And still is, and would be._


End file.
